Flurry and the Dragon

Flurry stuck to the blue brush at first, just going over all of the rough scales on his back. While she started with his wings, specifically his digits, she swiftly moved to his nose and worked her way down to the tip of his tail starting with his right side and then moving to his left. As she reached his left hip, she stopped.

"You're not going to wait until I'm finished to tell me you could just shed your skin and be done with it, right? That this was all for nothing?"

The dragon shook his head. "Dragons do not shed their skin. We don't molt. Certainly, we exfoliate, but we're not snakes, leaving big gobs of skin behind. Honestly, have you ever seen a shed dragon skin?"

"I've seen a gecko shed its skin," answered Flurry. "Start to finish. It ate the shedding. It's normal for them, why not for you?"

"That's gross."

"Have you ever tried it?"

"I literally just told you that dragons do not shed their skin. How could I possibly eat my own sheddings if I produce none?"

Flurry snorted. "Sounds like someone's a coward who's afraid to take a chance..."

"I'll tell you what I'll do," he sighed. "The next time I shed my skin, I'll eat the whole thing in front of you. Does that sound like something you want to watch?"

"Ew, no."

"Too bad."

Flurry resumed scrubbing, going down to the tip of his tail before switching brushes. With the white one, she again started with the wings, working on the softer membrane this time. By now, his scales were glistening brighter than his collection of jewels. His back was so clean that Flurry could see her own face reflected back at her.

"What is your name, by the way?" she asked.

"It's what my parents decided on as a form of identification."

"No, seriously. If you were mixed in with a bunch of other dragons, what noise should I make to call your attention?"

"Scream "Fuck me hard in the arse!" I guarantee, I'll turn to look at you."

"Yeah, so will everyone else!"

""The blue one, third from the right!""

"What if you're all identical clones?"

"Then we'd all have the same name."

Flurry pouted. "You're being difficult on purpose."

"That is accurate."

She sighed and kept scrubbing. When his wings were done, he rolled onto his back. She started with his neck, chest, and belly, then sat on his chest and started in on his front legs, paying special attention to his claws. They seemed almost prismatic. They looked black when uncleaned, but when polished and exposed to the candlelight, they shone beautifully in all colours of the rainbow.

When his front claws were done, she moved to the tip of his tail and worked her way up, stopping at his hips to work on his back claws and inner thighs. His claws were all very smooth and sharp, indicating that a lot of care and attention went into their maintenance.

"You have very lovely claws," she commented. "Why do they look so smooth?"

"Because they need to be," he answered. "Think of a chef. If his knives are filthy and cracked and don't have a clean edge, he's going to be making some terrible food. But if his knives are regularly sharpened, kept clean, and in good repair, he can chop vegetables all day long and they'll be beautiful. I don't want chipped, broken or dirty claws because they're useless. Claws need to be kept clean, sharp, and deft. Any blemishes will make it more difficult to properly apply them."

She nodded and turned around to do his other back leg, only to find that a massive pink and blue splotched rod had grown out of his cloaca. At the base was a large knot that had swollen up to keep it from going back in, almost the size of her hips. After the knot, it tapered down the remaining fifty centimetres, until the tip flared out. Rather than the usual flare, this one had little tentacular growths pointing outward in all directions, like a spiked ball, but softer.

"Seriously?" groaned Flurry.

"You're wearing nothing but panties and rubbing your flank against it. Did you truly expect me to have no reaction?"

"You're a pervert."

"You can ignore it for now. Or you can clean that, too. That's something fun, isn't it, Princess of Making Love?"

"That's my mother, jackass," grunted Flurry, scooting around the massive cock and scrubbing his groin. She tried to ignore it, but with every movement of his hips, it brushed up against her back, and the lower she went with the brush, the more aggressive he would be. By the time she reached his hip again, no less than three drops of precum had dripped onto her shoulders and run down her back.

"There," she groaned, tossing the brush away. "You're all cleaned up."

"Not quite," he smirked back. "All of your teasing has made another mess." He dropped a towel into the soap bucket and dropped it on her thigh. "That's not going away unless you take care of it, so unless you want to smell it all night, I suggest you milk it for all it's worth."

Flurry angrily grabbed the rag and began wiping down his cock. Since she was here, she opted to also run it around his cloacal vent. It was surprisingly clean already, but with how much he was dripping and how many crevices there were in his oddly-shaped tip, she had to be fairly quick, especially when it came to rinsing the rag and bringing it back, as more would always dribble down while she was away.

When it was mostly clean, his hips began to buck. She bounced around with the first few, but as she was about to fall off, she grabbed ahold of the closest thing to her: the shaft she was cleaning. With the next few bucks, she may as well have been jerking him off for how her grip was adjusted.

With one final thrust into her arms, his penis erupted a blast of sticky, hot dragon cum all over her face and chest. She had shouted out in the process, and with her mouth wide open, a heavy glob shot into her throat, and she couldn't breathe until she swallowed it all.

"That's quite a mess you've made," smirked the dragon, prompting Flurry to turn around and glare at him. "The erection's disappearing; you can clean all this up without fear of it suddenly being messier again."